The Consequences of Our Actions
by Grumpr
Summary: Sirius is a very clever boy, but even the brightest seven-year-old will sometimes fail to think things through. He's just going to use his father's wand to cast a spell or two—what could possibly go wrong?


**The Consequences of Our Actions**

**Synopsis:** Sirius is a very clever boy, but even the brightest seven-year-old will sometimes fail to think things through. He's just going to use his father's wand to cast a spell or two—what could possibly go wrong?

**Warnings:** Contains corporal punishment, although only really on about the same level as was implied for the Weasleys in the books.

**A/N:** This fic was heavily inspired by the characterisations in izzythehutt/Ieyre's _The Black Sheep Dog_ series. Elements like the snake paperweight in Orion's study were taken directly from BSDU, although I'm sure the story will still be understandable if you haven't read that fic.

* * *

His father's wand was warm beneath his fingers, an odd tingling that reflected Sirius's own excitement.

He almost couldn't believe his luck—to find his father's wand lying innocently on the desk, between the ink-blotter and the ivory coiled serpent that his father used as a paperweight, and the wand's master nowhere in sight.

Sirius had been eager to use a wand for ages. The last time Uncle Alphard had returned from his travels, Sirius's uncle had given him a book about spells which the young boy had spent hours pouring over. He couldn't wait to try some of the spells he had read about—the Levitation Charm, or perhaps even the Jelly-Legs Jinx.

And now Papa had been careless enough to leave his wand—how could he pass up such an opportunity?

Sirius tip-toed away from his father's desk, trying to avoid the carved serpent's gaze—it had always seemed to Sirius as if the paperweight's ruby eyes followed him across the room. He left the study as quietly as he entered it, in search of a partner-in-crime to share his discovery with.

He found his brother in the drawing room where he'd left him, still painstakingly copying down names from the old family tapestry that covered the entire side wall.

He and Regulus had been assigned homework by their tutor earlier that day—to find their namesakes on the family tree and note down when they'd lived, no doubt so they could look them up in their history books tomorrow.

Sirius had found two names quickly enough—their paternal great-grandfather, Arcturus's father Sirius, and their great-great-great-uncle, Phineas Nigellus's brother, who had apparently died at the age of eight—before getting bored and slipping away, finding his way to his father's study. It was there that he'd made a rather more exciting discovery.

Tapping the wand against his leg and grinning as it sparked in protest, Sirius slipped back into the grand room.

"Reg," he said eagerly. "Look at what I found."

His little brother looked up from his parchment. Sirius sniggered internally—being only five, Regulus was still struggling with writing his letters, and he had a speck of ink on his nose from how close he'd been holding the parchment to his face as he wrote.

"You went exploring again?" asked Regulus, frowning. "Have you even finished your homework task yet?"

"Never mind about the homework," said Sirius, rolling his eyes. "Look." He held up the wand.

"Mr Manford will tell Papa if you haven't finished it, Sirius," Regulus was saying, but then his eyes went wide as he finally seemed to process what his brother was showing him. "Is that _Papa's wand_?"

"Mhm," said Sirius, grinning. "He'd left it on his desk."

Regulus stared at him in horror. "Sirius, you _can't_."

Sirius frowned, annoyed his brother wasn't showing the excitement he'd been hoping for.

"Relax, I'm just going to try a spell or two, then I'll put it back. He won't even notice it's missing. 'Sides, he'll be impressed once I show him what I can do, you'll see."

"He'll be _furious_. You know we're not allowed to try any magic without a grown-up there."

That was true. Those rare few times Sirius had been permitted to use one of his parents' wands to attempt a spell, they had always kept an eagle-eyed watch over him—and he'd been expected to return the wand to its proper owner immediately afterwards. He knew his father wouldn't be pleased to find his wand taken, but Sirius thought that if he just showed them he'd mastered some new magic his parents might even be proud of him.

And, anyway, Regulus didn't have to be so annoyingly _fussy_ about it.

"If you're going to be like that you can leave, Reg, I don't care," said Sirius, peeved.

His brother didn't move, still looking horrified, and more irritatingly—disapproving. Regulus was always such a stickler for the rules.

"You know," said Sirius, smirking as a new idea occurred to him. "I was going to try a Levitation Charm first, but perhaps I should try something different."

Regulus—familiar with his brother's moods—eyed him with trepidation.

Sirius raised his father's wand as the book had instructed, and cried, "_Serpensortia!_"

There was a rush of warmth going down his right arm to the wand, then a loud BANG as a black viper seemed to explode from the end of it. The snake fell to the carpet at Regulus's feet, and his brother cried out in alarm, stumbling backwards.

Sirius lowered the wand, grinning in delight at his success. He'd conjured a snake—all by himself!

His joy was short-lived.

One moment he was amused at Reg's expression and envisioning his parents nodding in approval as he showed them the spell—and the next moment the snake reared up as high as Regulus, poised to strike at his brother.

Alarmed, Sirius lifted the wand again, but in that moment he could think of no spells, no magic to deal with a viper.

Regulus backed away in panic and tripped over the hem of his robes, dropping his parchment and quill as he fell to the carpet. He stared up fearfully at the snake as it bared its long fangs, about to attack.

Sirius stepped forward, intending to kick the snake away—anything to keep it from touching Reg—but he knew he would be too late, the snake was already striking—

In one swift movement, the wand was wrenched from his fingers and pointed at the snake. The next moment the viper was gone.

Sirius stared in shock at the spot where the snake had vanished in a puff of black smoke. When he looked up, he found his father glowering down at him.

Regulus had been right—Orion looked livid.

"What the blazes did you think you were doing, boy?" demanded his father.

Sirius swallowed heavily. Facing an angry Orion Black was almost worse than the snake had been.

"I didn't—" he stammered, still shaken. "I didn't mean—"

Orion's eyes flickered to his other son, then back to Sirius.

"Go wait in my study," he said brusquely. "I'll deal with you later."

At his father's words, spoken in that tone, Sirius instinctively obeyed. He slunk past his father, but in the doorway he paused and glanced back.

Orion was bending over Regulus, helping him back to his feet and looking him over for injuries.

"Are you hurt?" asked Orion.

Regulus shook his head, wiping tears from his eyes.

Sirius felt a pang of guilt. He hadn't meant to do more than just scare his brother a bit, but now even that idea seemed overly cruel. What had Regulus done to him, really? His brother had only tried to warn him. Even if he'd been really annoying about it, Sirius hadn't wished him hurt.

Orion seemed to notice his eldest son was lingering in the doorway, because he raised his voice without looking up. "Sirius, I believe I've told you to wait in my study."

Sirius bit his lip, hesitating for a moment longer—until Orion turned to glare at him. Taking the hint, he hurried to obey his father.

**oOo**

The snake stared at him from his father's desk, its ruby eyes glinting malevolently. Sirius stared back, warily.

He'd never liked his father's ivory paperweight. It was a family heirloom, of course, like so many things in this house, no doubt commissioned or acquired by some far-off ancestor. The coiled serpent was rather artfully crafted, rich in details and with rubies for eyes—but to Sirius it seemed entirely too life-like, too much like the real animal he had stood face to face with a mere half hour ago.

Perhaps he wouldn't have minded it so much if he hadn't been trapped in a room with it.

After Sirius had stepped back into the study, the door had swung shut behind him—no doubt his father was trying to prevent him from getting into further trouble.

He'd stood fidgeting near the door at first, too restless to sit down, and not sure if he was allowed to do so at all. Orion had just said to wait, but patience was never Sirius's strong suit, and being alone with all the thoughts roiling around in his head was a torture all on its own.

Sirius's stomach squirmed as the memory of his father's angry face came back to him. After his spell everything had gone wrong so quickly. He hoped Regulus was alright.

He also wished the snake would stop staring at him. He walked slowly to the other side of the room, but its red eyes seemed to follow him, always observing. He didn't dare come closer lest it try to lunge at him. Did he see it move, just now? He thought that he had.

It had been ages since he had been told to wait here—hours, surely, or at least a quarter of one.

Finally, as his legs grew tired he warily approached the desk and perched on the edge of the chair in front of it. He'd not sat down a minute when the door opened again and his father entered the study.

Sirius quickly jumped to his feet, but Orion just brushed past him to sit behind his desk, wordlessly gesturing for Sirius to take a seat as well.

"Is Reg alright?" asked Sirius, when his father stayed silent.

Orion gave him a long look. "Your brother suffered no injuries aside from his pride. He is shaken, but fine."

Sirius let out a relieved sigh, the guilt in his stomach ebbing away.

His father continued, "Your brother has told me what happened."

"I didn't mean for the snake to hurt Regulus," said Sirius quickly.

"I see."

"I just wanted to try some spells from my book," Sirius explained. "The one Uncle Alphard gave me, and I was going to try the Levitation Charm but then Reg was being annoying so I just thought I would scare him a little with this other spell I read about. I didn't realise the snake was going to attack him when I summoned it, though. But I'm glad that Reg is alright."

Orion had been listening to this explanation without a word, waiting for his son to finish. The only sign of his growing frustration was the tenseness of his jaw, something his son—too caught up in his story—failed to notice.

When the boy fell silent Orion spoke again, in a deceptively light tone, "And there was nothing else you would care to explain?"

Sirius frowned and actually seemed to take a moment to think this over.

"I don't think so," he said, confused, before his face brightened and he grinned charmingly. "But Papa, you have to admit that the spell was impressive."

This had been the wrong thing to say.

"Impressive is not the word I would use," said Orion, scathingly, and Sirius's face fell. "What you did was beyond foolish. We have told you never to try spells by yourself for a reason—you could have hurt both your brother and yourself today."

The boy pouted. "I've already said I didn't mean for the snake to attack Reg—"

"The snake is not the main issue here!" snapped Orion, startling his son with his outburst, before continuing in a more level tone. "What concerns me _most_ is your wanton disregard for our rules and obvious lack of remorse. You take _my wand_, which you should not be touching unless I've offered it to you, from _my study_, which I've _repeatedly_ told you to stay out of, and use it to cast magic when you know it is forbidden."

"I was going to put it back," mumbled Sirius, having shrunk down in his chair.

Orion didn't even dignify that with a response.

The boy had a sullen look about him now, but Orion knew he wasn't truly cowed—Sirius would go right back to misbehaving when he was dismissed. Arcturus had often told him he was too soft on the boy—perhaps his father was right, and Sirius required a firmer lesson.

Steeling himself, Orion came to a decision.

"You seem to believe that there are no consequences to your actions," he said, gravely. "Allow me to disabuse you of that notion."

He pushed his chair back from the desk, then looked up at his son. Realisation seemed to be dawning on Sirius, because he was eyeing his father with a distinct sense of trepidation.

_Good_, Orion thought. Perhaps Sirius would finally learn some proper respect.

"Come here," he instructed, beckoning his son.

The boy's face fell. "But Papa—"

"Now, Sirius," said Orion firmly.

Sirius bit his lip, but he knew there was no way to get out of it. Shoulders hunched, he slid off the chair and shuffled around the desk, coming to a stop at Orion's feet.

"I'm really sorry, Papa," he said, looking up at Orion with wide eyes. "I shan't do it again, I swear."

Unfortunately for him, Orion refused to be swayed by Sirius's sudden display of contrition.

"Then let this serve as a reminder for you," said Orion, before putting his son over his knee.

Sirius had never taken his punishments well, those few times they had needed to correct him. Always loud in his emotions—and with a tendency to the dramatic—he would squirm, plead and wail.

At least he made some attempt at holding back his tears this time. Orion was glad for it—the last time he'd put Sirius over his knee, some two or three years ago, the boy had thrown himself face-first onto the carpet afterwards, wailing hysterically and loudly declaring that he no longer liked his papa because he was so cruel and mean. It had taken half an hour to calm him down from his tantrum.

In the end Sirius still looked and sounded so pathetic that Orion couldn't bring himself to continue, even though he'd suffered worse punishments at his own father's hand. It would have to do.

He gave the boy a moment to compose himself, resting a hand on his back, then helped him to his feet again.

Sirius's face was streaked with tears—a rather pitiful sight. His mouth was already set in a pout, as if protesting the unfairness of it all, but he seemed properly cowed by the punishment. Looking down at his feet, he avoided his father's gaze. He wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his robes, while with the other hand rubbing his bottom—no doubt hoping to alleviate the sting.

Orion let him, but he took out his wand to conjure a handkerchief, which he offered to his son.

"Dry your face," said Orion, not unkindly.

Sirius did as he was told and blew his nose. When he finished, Orion tilted his son's face up to meet his still watery eyes, staring up at him fearfully.

"Now," said Orion, getting his attention. "There will not be a repeat of this incident. Do I make myself clear?"

Sirius bit his lip and nodded.

"Speak up," Orion prompted, wanting a verbal answer. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Papa."

"Good," said Orion, letting go of his chin and giving his shoulder a squeeze. "Now go up to your bedroom. I'll leave it to you to explain to your mother why you will not be allowed any sweets at tea this week."

At this, Sirius's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again when he saw his father's eyes narrow dangerously.

"Yes, Papa," he said meekly.

"Off you go, then," said Orion, waving his wand to open the door.

He watched as Sirius shuffled back around the desk. The boy paused for a moment in the doorway, glancing back at Orion, who lifted his eyebrows in silent question.

Sirius flushed at being caught looking, then quickly hurried away.

Left alone in his study once more, Orion sighed. He stared pensively at his wand for a moment, before putting it to the side. He could only hope that this time the lesson would stick.

**oOo**

Sirius trudged up the stairs to the topmost landing, feeling very hard done by as he did so. Papa had been even more cross with him than he'd expected and soon Mama would hear about it all as well.

The only thing Sirius wanted to do now was to fling himself face-down on his bed—maybe he'd even give in to the miserable feeling in his chest and cry, even though he was seven and his mother would tell him crying wasn't appropriate. Sirius didn't care overmuch at that moment.

Impatiently, he wiped the wetness from his eyes as he crossed the landing to his room.

"Sirius?"

At the sound of his brother's voice, Sirius quickly stuffed the handkerchief into his pocket. He looked up to find Regulus standing in the open doorway on the other side of the landing. Sirius flushed, embarrassed to be seen in this state by his brother.

"What?" he asked, defensively.

Regulus shrank back for a moment at his tone, then pressed on.

"You left your homework in the drawing room earlier," he said timidly, offering Sirius the rolled up parchment.

Right, the homework their tutor had assigned them for tomorrow. He'd have to complete it today, because Papa would be very displeased if he heard Sirius had slacked off during his studies as well.

"Thanks, Reg," said Sirius glumly, taking the scroll from him.

Instead of slipping back into his room as Sirius expected, Regulus hovered in the landing for another moment.

"Are you alright?" asked Regulus in a hushed whisper—as if he were afraid one of their parents would overhear.

Sirius's shoulders sagged. "I'm fine."

"Did Papa punish you?"

Sirius hesitated. Regulus would no doubt find out soon enough what happened, but he didn't want to tell his brother the whole story now. Bad enough that he would have to tell his mother at tea later that afternoon.

"Papa yelled at me," he admitted, sulkily. "He wasn't happy _at all_. I guess—I guess maybe you were right about Papa being cross when he found out."

His brother gave him a sympathetic look. Regulus had never been able to handle their parents yelling at him—although unlike with Sirius, that was a very rare occurrence indeed.

"He also said I was to explain to Mama why I wasn't allowed any sweets at tea—for the whole week."

Regulus's eyes widened in horror, a reaction which slightly mollified Sirius.

"He's making you tell Mama?"

Sirius nodded gloomily. It was the part he was least looking forward to. That and the idea of watching Regulus eat scones and biscuits at tea all week while Sirius had to make do with just tea and sandwiches.

He'd probably only get sandwiches with watercress and cream cheese too, he thought glumly. He hated watercress.

"Sirius?"

"Hmm?"

He glanced back at his brother. Regulus was giving him a rather perceptive look, like he knew what Sirius had been thinking about.

"You can have some of my sweets at tea, if you want," Regulus offered.

Sirius felt a rush of affection for his brother—swiftly followed by a niggling feeling of guilt when he recalled the events from earlier that day.

"They're yours," he said, giving a small sigh. "And Papa wouldn't approve. But thanks."

Regulus bit his lip, then nodded and seemed about to slip back into his own room, when Sirius spoke again, his words coming out in a rush.

"Say, Reg, you know I didn't mean—that I didn't want you to get hurt, right?"

Regulus nodded. "I know."

"Good," said Sirius, awkwardly. "I'll—see you at tea, then."

Spirits lifted slightly by the exchange, Sirius slipped into his room.

Once the door closed, he instantly made a beeline for his bed and gave in to his earlier urge to throw himself face-first onto the embroidered coverlet. He sighed. Today had been a truly horrible day, he thought moodily. His father was cross with him, and his backside felt like it had been set aflame. Surely Papa hadn't needed to hit that hard?

He reached up to pull his pillow under his face, noticing as he did so that he was still holding the scroll in his hand.

His stomach sank at the thought of his homework task. The Black family tapestry was old, with seven centuries worth of names written on there. It would take ages to look through them to find all his namesakes.

Glumly he unrolled the parchment Regulus had pressed into his hand and cast a glance at what he'd written so far.

He gasped, his eyes widening in surprise as he looked again, this time reading it properly. Rather than just the two names Sirius had written down earlier that day, there was now a neat list of names and dates.

_Sirius Black, son of Antares and Lysithea Black, 1768-1852_, the third line read, followed by half a dozen more, all written in Regulus's careful hand.

His heart warmed with affection for his brother, who had apparently gone and finished not just his own homework, but that of his older brother too. At least one person didn't seem cross with him after what happened. Sirius buried his face in his pillow, hiding the small smile tugging at his lips.

Maybe today wasn't _completely_ horrible.

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**A/N: **Please leave a review if you liked it! :)


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